


Sharing Is Caring

by bellamythology (onemanbellarmy)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, idk it's ambiguous so pick your fave i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:51:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4189284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemanbellarmy/pseuds/bellamythology
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: You stole my usual seat at the coffee shop and I don’t know how to ask for it back AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharing Is Caring

Hearing a sigh, Bellamy looked around to catch the blonde two tables away hastily averting her gaze from him. Again. She’d been watching him for several minutes now, and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Of course he was used to female attention — as much of a douche as that made him sound, he _was_ aware that he was attractive — but her interest in him didn’t seem to be of the _hey, you're hot_ variety.

Sensing his gaze on her, she’d redirected her gaze to her laptop, stabbing at her keyboard. Huffing in frustration, she pushed it away from her to drop her head to the newly cleared space on the table before her.

He was contemplating walking over to ask what was wrong, and had just resolved to do it when she suddenly shoved her chair back and began stuffing her things into her bag. With one last look at him over her shoulder — he was surprised by the intensity of her glare; what could he possibly have done to piss her off? — she left.

* * *

 

Clarke looked around the local Starbucks and sighed. He was here again, sitting at her favorite table by the window. It was perfectly placed, with strategic distance from the air vents and the speakers, and she had found that sitting there tended to increase her productivity.

Trying to quell her frustration, she chose a different table and began pulling out her things. Optimum location or no, she still had papers to finish and reading to complete. The world didn’t stop spinning just because her favorite spot had been taken by some (unfairly handsome) asshole — though, she admitted grudgingly, that wasn’t quite a fair judgment. It wasn’t as though he knew that he’d intentionally stolen her seat; it was a public space and he was well within his rights to sit there.

Just as she’d settled in to begin her first assignment, Clarke heard the scraping of a chair. She looked up to find the aforementioned asshole dropping into the seat across from her.

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”

“What’s your problem, princess?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Dare I ask?”

He waved an arm impatiently. “Top-of-the-line laptop, name-brand clothes, undoubtedly expensive messenger bag — hey, don’t change the subject.”

“What do you want?” she repeated.

“Right.” He rested his elbows on the table, studying her. “You’ve been glaring at me for the past couple of weeks. I want to know why.”

“I — I haven’t been _glaring_ at you.”

“Oh yes you have. C’mon, princess, tell me.”

Clearly he wasn’t going to let it go so easily. She still had a lot of work to do; it was in her best interests to get this conversation over with as quickly as possible. “You stole my spot.”

He blinked. “Come again?”

Clarke jerked her chin at the table he’d taken over, still covered with his belongings. “That’s my favorite table — I work best when I’m sitting there.”

He cocked his head. “You know, you could’ve just said something. I’m totally willing to share.”

Feeling rather stupid, Clarke dropped her gaze to the table. “Really.”

“Yeah.”

When she dared to look up again, he was smiling. “I’m Bellamy.”

“Clarke.”

“So, Clarke.” Bellamy’s gaze slid over her stacked textbooks, notebooks, and papers. “It looks like you’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Yeah.” She sighed.

“Wanna come sit with me?”

“I — Are you sure?” She looked over at his own class materials.

“Yeah. I can share, princess.” His smile became impishly teasing. “Can you?”

She huffed, though she wasn’t really as annoyed as she pretended to be. “Of course I can.”

“Well, c’mon then.” He gathered up an armful of books for her, carrying them over to the coveted table. Collecting the rest of her things, Clarke followed.

**Author's Note:**

> Cry with me on [Tumblr](http://befreckledrebelking.tumblr.com)!


End file.
